


The Doorway

by weirdoughnut



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark Magic, Madness, Medieval Fantasy, Some Humor, m not trying to steal anything, ps i plan on making this a trilogy but honestly i'm so freaking lazy, there're ye olde words in this thing so be ready to (not really) rack your brain to understand, there's gonna be some undertale references here just so you know i', these tags are so bland i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdoughnut/pseuds/weirdoughnut
Summary: "Are you ready?"Really, Tristin just wanted to pass some time with his sister with a game of catch. But, after discovering an entrance to a whole other realm and level of reality just in his backyard, maybe the ball could wait...





	

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Due to my dissatisfaction with how I formatted this story, I took down all the chapters and shoved them into one large entry. Enjoy!
> 
> Keep in mind I wrote this entire thing within four days, cramming most of the work in 11 hours of one. I just barely completed to hand it in last school year and only now did I go back to add tweaks here and there, maybe a new paragraph at most and grammar fixes at least.
> 
> That said, grab yerself some bellytimber an' sit down. Ye might wanna prepare a cringe and maybe some critique? 
> 
> Haha, introducing, "The Doorway".

“Go, lad! We shall retrieve thy sister!” Zylen shoved Tristin away from battle, towards the throne room. The swordsman took out a gleaming blade and sliced through the enemies.

Several feet away, Tristin could see fatigue ghosting on Merek’s face. Mila continued to use her arrows beside him, tall and strong as always. These men were falling in tens thanks to the surviving warriors. Even through that, though, more were appearing.  
Before he could see any more gore, Tristin wheeled around and ran as fast as light to the mighty doors. The boy stopped with a palm rested on the face on one of the doors. He turned and yelled, "Gramercy!" and pushed open the doors.  
_Here we go_.

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

“Ugh, you're lucky mom isn't here!” Ashley picked up the rubber ball from the flower garden, tossing it from hand to hand as she got ready to throw. While she did that, Tristin backed up and prepared to catch it.

“You sure you’re ready, Ashes?” He knew she hated being called that.

“Shut up!” she retorted. She threw the ball at full force at her brother but ended up hitting the bushes.

Tristin laughed mockingly. “What was  _ that? _ ” He ran back to get the ball.

“Humph. I'd like to see you try hitting me from all the way over there!”

“Psh, of course I can,” the boy muttered to himself. He pushed the leaves and branches apart, expecting only the toy his sister tried to use as a projectile. Instead, there was no ball, but a doorway. 

“What the…” He straightened, blinking. Tristin crouched down again, only finding that the hole in the wall was still there. He rubbed his eyes as his sister called out to him.

“What's taking you so long?” 

He heard feet walking along the grass behind him and looked up to see dark, hazel eyes frowning at him. Tristin didn't speak, but only made the door more evident to her.

Ashley stared, silent. Finally, she pointed. “That's a prank,” she deadpanned.

“Uh,” he laughed awkwardly, “no.”

“Uh,  _ yes _ ,” she forced. “Yes, it  _ is _ .”

“Okay, here. I'm gonna go thr-” he was cut off by a blasting - but muted - horn. The two looked at the hole, one confused and the other curious

“Explain  _ that _ ,” Tristin challenged.

The girl’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, speechless.

“I'm going in,” he decided.

“Wha-what? No! T-Tristin James Byers, if yo-”

“Nope!” And he slipped into the corridor the door offered, leaving Ashley no choice but to follow.

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

Tristin passed through the other side of the hole, revealing some sort of medieval village, but that wasn’t the shocking part. People dressed in odd-looking clothes roamed around, dancing, shopping, or just talking. The blue ball was there, too. Score.

_ Wow,  _ Tristin thought.

Picking up the toy, the boy shook his sister, bringing her back from absolute confusion.

“ _ What! _ ” Ashley screeched. Luckily, the place was too loud for anyone to hear her.

Tristin grinned mischievously, making his sister’s eyes widen. She backed up towards the wall. “No, no,  _ no! _ ”

“Yes, yes,  _ yes! _ ” He grabbed her arm and shoved through the thornless bush, once again 

dragging his poor sister with him.

Ashley looked breathless. “Tristin, we got your ball. Let's  _ go _ .” She started towards the bush despite her brother’s protest. But when she separated the leaves, there was nothing but concrete. The exit had disappeared.

“No!” Tristin’s sister ran to the wall and felt around, desperate to go home. “No!”

Tristin tugged on Ashley’s sleeve. “C’mon, Ashley! If we look around, we could find someone who knows about the door!”

It took a while of absently scanning the crowds and biting her lip, but finally, she gave in. “Fine,” Ashley sighed. “But if we end up in a dungeon, I’ll be the one torturing you.”

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

They walked around for a while, close to each other so they wouldn’t get lost. Both were aware of the weird looks they were receiving from bystanders. Tristin guessed it was their modern appearances. 

“What’s with that face?” he asked.

Ashley raised an eyebrow. “What face?”

“ _ Your _ face.”

“What’s wrong with my face?” she questioned, slightly offended.

“It’s all… scrunched up and weird.”

Her face relaxed as she realized what he meant. “Oh, it’s ‘cause of the smell.”

Tristin nodded. “Yeah, it does smell pretty bad here,” he admitted.

“Even worse than you.”

“Hey!”

Once again, they were silent, searching for anything that’ll help them. Anywhere that’ll give them information.

Ashley spoke up. “So how’re we gonna go about this?”

“Huh?” The boy peeked at the markets.

“‘ _ Huh?’ _ What do you mean  _ ‘huh’ _ !”

“A-Ashley, don’t be so loud!” Tristin glanced around at the people whose attention his sister caught. “I-I honestly don’t know.”

She let out a breath. A thoughtful expression crossed her face. “We could go find a library.”

The boy agreed, feeling guilt creeping up on him. He did his best to ignore it.

The clump of markets ended and the two entered a calmer part of the town. People were chatting in the shops and kids were playing games involving a stick and wheels. Some pointed, but no one really took a second glance at them.

“Where d’you think the librarby is?”

“Hm, it co-” Ashley stopped herself. “Lib _ rarby _ ?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him blankly. “Wh- You know what? I'm not even gonna try.”

While they talked, a man who looked around his twenties came up to them. He wore a cream-coloured linen tunic with leather cuffs and his leggings were faded brown. A simple-looking sword - at least, that’s all he could make out - in a sheath was attached to his leather belt which was strapped around his waist. His boots were muddy and his hands wore black gloves. The man cocked his head, frowning slightly. “Pray pardon me, I am Zylen.” He bowed. “You two seem lost. Might I be of any assistance?”

“O-oh, um, aye… sir?” Ashley said unsurely.

“Mmhm.” He nodded firmly as if he didn’t expect - “didn’t expect” as in “wouldn’t allow” - a no. “Come along, then. I might know someone who could help.”

After a silent conversation, Tristin shrugged. “Better than nothing.” He whispered so only Ashley could hear. He nodded at the man.

“Splendid.” The kids followed the man, still cautious. People greeted him honourably, so he must’ve been trustworthy.

_ Mom and dad would kill me if they found out I’m following a stranger… _ Tristin thought.

“May I ask thee of thy names?” Zylen queried.

“I’m Tristin and my sister’s name is Ashes,” he joked.

“Ash _ ley _ . I’m  _ Ashley _ .”

The man chuckled. “Ah, of course. Much more suitable for a fair maiden.”

Behind him, Ashley raised her eyebrows but kept silent. Her brother grinned at her reaction.

With that, the three went on.

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

“‘Ere we are.”

They’d reached a house with a cobble base and a wooden door. Above the cobble was a timber frame and some… weaved twigs? It looked a lot like the others, but this one was a little bigger than what Tristin had seen around.

“Ol’ man Aldwin dwells in his little house and hardly ever sees the sunlight. He says that he is ‘waiting for the morrow they arrive.’ That might be today.”

“W-w-what?” Ashley stuttered.

As Zylen opened the door, he said, “Are thou from hither?”

Tristin frowned,  _ What’s a ‘hither?’ _ but his sister seemed to understand. “N-no… What gave it away?”

The man looked at them from head to toe. “Thy clothes, as well as your speech.” He moved aside and held open the door. “Ladies first.”

Ashley walked in, closely followed by Tristin. In the case they actually couldn’t trust this guy, he wanted to make sure they were still together.

The boy looked around. There was a fireplace with unlit charcoal across from the door. Beside it were all the metal tools Tristin used to poke the fire during winter. He always got in trouble for it, but it was worth the try.

In the middle of the room was a table and two benches, one on either side. It reminded him of a picnic table, minus the candles on top and rug under it.

There were stairs on the other side of the room that disappeared behind a wall. What he really liked was the painting on the wall. It showed a large, dark creature with a long, thin frame and horns in the shape of lightning, just sideways. He held a whip resembling a snake and smoke at the same time. It gave him shivers, and he liked that. 

“Zylen, back sae early?” a rusty voice with a hint of a lisp and a possible Scottish accent called from somewhere above.

“I hast brought visitors,” Zylen replied. “Dost thou wants to be introduced, or shall you stay locked in your asylum as always?”

“Bah!” There were creaks and thuds from the floor overhead. “Jist force me down, why don’tcha?”

“The man’s a slight cranky-”

“Slight, huh?” Tristin accidentally let it slip. Realizing this, he covered his mouth and whispered, “Sorry.”

Ashley looked disappointed, but Zylen laughed. “Ha! Lad, no need for apologies! E’ryone here respects ol’ Aldwin too much to say that!”

Thumps came down the stairs, and a bearded man past his forties appeared. He wore a black hooded robe and dark blue clothing underneath. Once he spotted the two kids, he let out a raspy gasp. “Z-Zylen… a-are they…”

“Aye, sir.” Tristin spotted a difference in the man he met moments ago. He stood taller and spoke with more nobility. “This is Lady Ashley,” he gestured to his sister, “and her brother-”

“Sir Tristin the Mighty!” he exclaimed childishly.

The old man, Aldwin, guffawed. “I can’t believe it! King Aidan was wrong!”

Startled, Ashley took a step back. Tristin jumped a little. But Zylen didn’t even flinch.

“Okay, okay,” Ashley waves her arms to get everyone’s attention. “We’re not from here, hooray! So what? How are we gonna get back home? Not to be rude or anything...”

“You.” Aldwin pointed at her and she froze. “You are to be th’ ones to defeat him.”

“W-what? But sir, they are but mere children!” Zylen pardoned. Tristin found it a bit weird, since Zylen seemed to be alright with an idea of this moments earlier, but shrugged it off. Having knowledge of something must be different than actually having it approved.

“Och aye, but they are the ones from the Other World! A female an’ a male of identical blood!”

The man was silent. At last, he nodded. “A’ight.” 

“Please, take a seat!” Aldwin directed them to the picnic - but not really - table. “Zylen, would you mind fetchin’ us some water?”

“Yessir.” He appeared to have lost his posture and tromped away.

“Sae, lads, how’s abit an explanation?” The old man grinned and Tristin saw several chipped teeth. They were all intact, though. Yellowish, but intact.

“Please, sir,” Ashley said.

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

“I was a young philosopher in Scotland. The professionals thought I was all but a wide-eyed, wee bairn, yea.” Aldwin scoffed. “Nae a body believed or listened. Who’d have thought, two decades later, I was right after all! Ha!”

“W-well… we don’t really know if we’re who you think we are, sir…”

_ Why does she keep saying, ‘sir’? _ Tristin thought.

“Nae, you’re th’ first in nearly two centuries, lassie.  Puckle years late, but better late than ne'er!”

_ That man sounds insane, _ Tristin thought.  _ But Zylen said he was respected, right? He might just be in shock… _

“Anyway, I had a fellow youngster wi’ me in Scotland. Carbrey. He was into all that dark magic mince. At first, it was a hobby. ‘En, it became an obsession. In the end, it was his reason to  _ breathe _ .

“I tried to help th' poor loon, but he was too deep into it. Eventually, he began attempts to summon spirits an' claimed to have spoken with th' dead.

“ The professors didn’t know any of it. I didn’t let him say a word about it in public. I didn’t want anyone to think he lost his mind." Aldwin sighed, rubbing his eyes. “ I realized too late that th' loon already did. ”

Tristin was so captivated by the story that he didn’t notice Zylen come in.

“Ye might wanna swig first, Aldwin.” He clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Cheers…”

“D’you mind?” Zylen asked politely.

“Nae, I cannae keep talkin' about this…” The Scottie grabbed a mug of what Tristin hoped  _ was  _ water and took gulps of it.

“One e’en, his friend said something. Something Aldwin had feared,” he began.  “He said that the lord of death had called upon him as his honourable ambassador. That his years of worship had paid off. Alas, there were others, as well. The lad had competition.

“In short, he said that within a few years, two from the Other World will arrive. They will challenge him, and he must guard the Gate to prevent their exit. Only then will he truly earn the title.

“Aldwin had already suspected the gods to be arising, but this was madness.”

_ This is Sparta,  _ Tristin thought. The boy forced down a smile.

“Though, sane or mad, he couldn’t just deny it. Even the professors were predicting power awakening somewhere deep, deep down.

“His friend was gone by the light of dawn. Aldwin, too, packed his bags and set off to find answers. Things happened, lads, and now ‘ere he is.”

Ashley put her hands on her face. “This is just a bad dream. I’ll wake up any second now…”

“I’m ‘fraid not, lassie,” said Aldwin.

Zylen seemed to remember something. “Oh, and I talked to Mila. She is able to join us.”

“But we didn’t even agree yet!” exclaimed Ashley.

“It’s pretty much our only choice…” Tristin felt like he hasn’t talked for  _ ages _ .

“Can’t we just wait until the door reappears?”

“That’s not for several dozen moons, lass,” sighed Aldwin. She groaned in response.

“Sorry. Sorry, I don’t mean to sound impatient, it’s just…” Ashley shrugged.

“Aw, cheer up, lassie! How’s about a wee rest before we begin trainin'?”

She pouted. “Training?”

At the same time, Tristin had a big grin on his face and said, much more energetically, “Training?”

Once again, Zylen laughed. “Yea, lad. I’ll show ye how to slice a ma-”

“Ah, ah, ah!  _ Zylen _ .” Aldwin gave him a stern glare.

He chuckled, ruffling up the boy’s hair. “Sorry, Tristin.  I  guess if you ever decide to visit when you’re older. Now, c'mon! Let's get ye upstairs.”

“Aww!” the boy whined, getting up to tail behind Zylen.

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

“So, what do you think?”

The two from the ‘Other World’ were snuggled up on a full-sized bed with a simple frame in the smaller-on-the-outside house. They’d skipped dinner except for a piece of bread. Neither of them were really hungry, though.

“What do you mean?” Tristin rubbed his eyes.

“About Zylen and Aldwin.”

“They’re pretty cool.” He enjoyed their company.

Ashley frowned at the ceiling. “But do you think they’re telling the truth?”

Tristin put his hands behind his head. “I trust them.”

They were both silent for a few minutes. In the dark, he heard her exhale. “Goodnight, Tristin.”

“‘Night, Ashes.”

She murmured, “Three times in one day…”

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

The door slammed open and light poured on Tristin’s face. Someone shrieked. A bony man with a beard stood at the doorway with his hand on the door handle. Behind him stood a muscular young adult who wore a chainmail breastplate and had his hair up in a man bun.

_ What is this? _ Tristin asked himself. Then, he recalled the events that happened yesterday.  _ So it  _ wasn’t  _ a dream… _

“ Ha, ha! Up ye go, bairns! Morn awaits for nobody!” shouted Aldwin.

_ Bairns? _

“Ah, good morrow.” Zylen bowed. “My apologies. Ol’ man is a bit excited.”

Tristin looked to his left and saw his sister with her hair looking like a bird’s nest and her face in her hands. She was panting. Being the great brother he is, Tristin snickered.

“Oh, shut up.” He got a pillow to the face.

“Breakfast is downstairs!” Aldwin called from below.

A surprised Tristin asked, “How’d he get there so fast?”

“Aye, ‘tis something to ask.” Zylen chortled. “Once ye finish your bellytimber, there’s some spare clothes in the wash. It was our old clothes - I apologise if ‘tis not very fitting. I will be in the fields with Mila. She is quite excited to meet you…  _ Ashes _ .” Before the girl could stop him, he left the room.

“Oh, great!” Ashley gestured wildly at the door. “Look at what you did!”

Tristin jumped up and sped out the door, escaping from his boiling sister.

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

“It took thee a while to arrive,” Zylen commented, dropping a bag. A woman stood beside him. She had dark brown hair, just like Zylen’s, that stopped just after her chest. It was a little messy, as if she only stroked it with a brush once. Her brown dress fell to her ankles, which revealed boots even muddier than Zylen’s. She held a beautiful wooden bow and had a quiver of arrows strapped around her torso. Her gloves were pretty weird, it included leather for her wrist and connected only to three fingers, the pointer, middle and ring finger.

Tristin scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Ashley and I got into a bit of a… problem.”

“More like ‘we got lost because Tristin kept going off the roads’.”

“Well, you sai-”

“Nope.”

“But-”

“No butts.”

“Ash-”

She held up her palm. “Ahp!”

“C-

“Ahp, pap, pap!” His sister made a ‘zip your lips’ gesture with her hand.

He let out a defeated breath and ‘zipped’ his mouth shut.

“Good boy.”

He glared, still quiet. For some reason, he never defied her when she did that.

The lady beside Zylen let out a light but vibrant laugh. “Aren’t you two lively jokers?”

“Mila, this ‘ere is Lady Ashley-”

Tristin noted,  _ Always ‘Lady’? _

“And Sir Tristin… the Magnificent, was it?”

“The  _ Mighty _ .”

“Aye, my bad.”

“A second Zylen, I see…” observed Mila. “Alack! I might as well be burning below!” She gently elbowed the man.

He grinned at her, continuing, “Ashley, Tristin, this is my twin sister.”

“Oh! That actually explains a lot of similarities!” Ashley pointed out.

“Wherefore? We do _not_ look alike!” he argued.

“You kinda do.”

“Lady Ashley retaliates!” Mila narrated.

As conscious he was on how off topic they were getting, Tristin enjoyed this. It felt like hanging out with friends he’d known for years, not for less than 24 hours.

“A’ight, a’ight. We should’st begin training.” Zylen put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He looked at Tristin with brown eyes. “Thou shalt be with me, thy sister with mine.”

_ So we’re really doing this... _

“I pity thee, Sir Tristin the Mighty,” Mila teased.

Zylen only smiled and pointed to the far side of the field. “Thither.”

She copied him mockingly. “Thither,” she said. Mila picked up a second, slightly smaller bow that hid in the grass and let Ashley handle it. “Thy bow, Miss.”

Her brows creased. “O-oh, thanks…”

“Sir Aldwin would’st enjoyed training either of ye in magic and alchemy, but alas, he could not do so with two so inexperienced in this world,” Zylen explained.

“Magic?” Tristin questioned, suddenly very interested. “He can do magic?”

“Aye, plenty Scotts can. Just not many are able to truly practice it due to their king banning it inside Scotland territory.”

“Why?”

“A conflict in royal history or shug.”

“Shug?”

The young man gave him a weird look. Something seemed to register in his mind and became unsure and at a loss for an explanation.

“It means ‘whatever’,” Ashley translated.

“Also commonly known for being an insult,” said Mila as she glared at her brother. “Sir Aldwin would have thy head for that.”

“We should’st begin training, Tristin!” Zylen pulled out a wooden training sword from his brown bag and tossed it to the thirteen-year-old, avoiding Mila’s comment. He caught it by its ‘blade’ and was relieved that it was dull.

_ Here we go! _

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

He learned the ready position and how to block his shoulders, head, gut, and legs. Zylen had decided Tristin would use the Swiss longsword, which weighed about a kilogram or two.

As they walked back to Aldwin’s home (with a few stops), Ashley told him about the things Mila taught her. Her favourite was rapid fire shooting, where she watched Mila shoot three arrows in less than two seconds. Ashley couldn’t do it, but she found it fascinating.

“The first thing I learned was instinctive shooting, where you had to just analyze the distance and pull back the bowstring to whatever seems fit.” She looked down at her bow, pursing her lips. “My first shot plummeted after three meters…”

He told her about his time training with Zylen.

“-and then I actually knocked his sword out of his hands! Two hands, Ash!  _ Two! _ ”

“Ye got lucky, Tristin,” commented Zylen in front of them. But, he heard him whisper to his sister, “The lad’s a prodigy!”

Eventually, they arrived at Aldwin’s ‘dwelling’. They ate lunch with their three new friends, talking about some of their antics, adventures, and theories. They even covered who Aldwin’s friend is, and where he suspects the man is now.

“ There're mountains to th' east, not too far from here. Ye could probably brin' a hundred willin' warriors with ye.”

“B-” Zylen began.

“None of ye will survive if ye go there lackin’ other experienced fighters. If I know anythin’ at all about that loon is that he’s prepared. ”

“Sir Aldwin, will thee stay here?” asked Mila.

“Och aye, laddie. It ain’t safe for me out there with these ol’ creaky bones.”

The rest of the day was a blur for Tristin. Was it  _ that _ dangerous? He was only thirteen and his sister was sixteen. But they were practically middle-aged in these times, huh? As he finished asking himself these questions and replying with half-baked answers, it was time to train once again. When that ended, Ashley and Tristin ate dinner, did their best to accommodate to this way of cleaning up, and went to bed.

Wake up, eat, change, train, break, train, eat, wash up, sleep and think every second in-between. Also ask Aldwin about the ‘quest’ and how the little army he gathered was going along. That was his routine for about a week when Zylen finally allowed him to use an actual sword, despite Ashley’s protests. He’s finally received a Swiss longsword. He also got some pretty sweet pauldrons spaulders, body armour Zylen called a ‘brigandine’ and a belt and sheath for the sword. 

First, he got help wearing the armour. Then, Tristin practiced brandishing the sword while the sheath was unbuckled, and when he was used to that, he began unsheathing it with the belt on. It took several attempts, but the boy finally took it out without having to fear his life.

“So, lad, does thy blade feel…  _ right? _ ” asked his tutor.

“Y… yeah, actually! This one feels even better than the wooden one.”

“Aye. En guard!” The longsword was swiped from his loose grip and landed in the ground, point first. “Are ye ready, Tristin? Waist and above, only!”

“A-aye!” Tristin is proud to say he’s gotten used to some of their speech. “J-just… Just go easy on me, a’ight?”

“N’er, lad!”

So there they stood, face to face. The dummy was too immobile for Tristin. Inside, he was jumping up and down like a squirrel on a sugar high. He calmed down and prepared himself.

_ Ready position, _ Tristin dictated himself.

Zylen played the first move. A swipe, aiming for the gut from the left.

_ Block left, not too low. Parry; diagonal slash upwards. _

His opponent took a step forward and cross cut horizontally from Tristin’s right to left. He blocked it by doing an inverted move, then quickly swiped at Zylen’s arm. He dodged, and the fight intensified.

_ Block, block, slash, step back. Wait, wait… Strike his gut! Darn. Back, back,  _ back!

Tristin kept directing himself in his head when an unexpected arrow hit the ground in front of them.

“Oi! Sundown, ye stymphalists!” a female voice called.

It was. Sweating and heavily breathing, Tristin weakly sheathed his blade and shook Zylen’s hand. That’s how they normally ended training, just without this  _ awesome  _ new gear.

Wake up, ask, eat, change, train, break, spar, eat, “A quick question, Sir Aldwin?”, wash up, sleep and think every second in-between. His new schedule. Ashley and Tristin had stopped wondering about their parents at last, deciding that it was only going to make them even more worried. He also just disregarded how different the time could be here; he didn’t want any more distractions.

_ Just focus on getting out of here, T. _

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

After two and a half weeks of horse riding and partner training, they met up with the new team. There was almost just one week left before the Creature Festival ends.

The one person who really stuck out was Merek. Also a wizard from Scotland, he reminded Tristin of Aldwin. The similarities didn’t end there, though.

Merek was around thirty years, which was pretty old in these times apparently. He wasn’t very irritable as the older man, but this guy definitely spoke his mind.

“ _ These  _ are th’ Chosen Ones?” Merek spat as soon as they were introduced. A few curses were in there too, but they made Tristin's ears bleed. His accent was even heavier than Aldwin’s.

His hair was red and white, but not like the Canadian flag. The red was tinged with orange and the white was scattered around like salt on an autumn leaf. The man wasn’t very tall, just a few inches above Tristin. He had a freckled face and a snarky expression that, after some observation, was his resting face. Merek was someone who his mom would’ve told him to not be near.

Oh, he could hear her lecture now.

Tristin scanned the field. That looked like several hundred, yup. They were all equipped with their own armour and weapons. He even saw a dual wielding female or two in the crowd that consisted mainly of men.

In front, Zylen was giving a speech about everyone here’s bravery, courage and the honour they were giving to their family name. During this speech, Tristin realized that everyone knew of this. Most, if not all, believed the gods of this world were arising and one of them were out to destroy this place.

This wouldn’t be their first battle. This, as a people, won’t be their last. That was something that Tristin, even at such a young age, knew would stick with him.

“ _ You’re the first in almost two centuries!”  _ Sir Aldwin said something like that the day they arrived. It must’ve been buried until now, the awakening of these immortal beings. Buried in layers of time. They could only assume those other humans also defeated the Dark Lord’s earlier pickings were defeated by Other Worlders and Chosen Ones. Out there somewhere, there, too, are humans that came to this world - heck, maybe another connected universe - and are fighting that lord’s servants right now.

“So,” Zylen concluded. “My brothers and sisters, look to thy left, now to thy right. That warrior, they have sworn to protect ye and thy blood with their life, just as ye have sworn to guard theirs with yours.

“Not all of us shall make it through alive, but if ye fell in battle, ye fall with honour!” He raised his glorious blade, a  Kriegsmesser (which Zylen pronounced it as ‘creegs messer’). He said was gifted to him on his recent birthday. That got Ashley and Tristin singing ‘happy birthday’ to him, which caught him off guard.

_ I guess they don’t sing the song yet.  _ Tristin had laughed in his head.

The army roared. They all heaved up their baggage, mounted their steeds and off they went.

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

The journey was pretty anxious, tension filled the air. But, Tristin could sense their determination keeping them on. All of their hearts were beating as one, he could feel it deep down. They all had one goal: to take down Carbrey.

Three nights later, they were on the other side of the mountains. These people know how to move fast.

They stood at what seemed like ruins of some sort of castle. A once very grand structure. Unfortunately, Tristin was unable to read anything inscribed on the walls when he went inside the dusty, abandoned halls. He was curious as to what it had to tell, but didn’t ask anyone. He felt as if what was on the walls shouldn’t be read in this situation.

Everything inside was, minus the germs that decided to inhabit this place, absolutely mesmerizing. Curtains hung over cracked windows, a dirty and ripped carpet lay on the ground all over the corridors and stairways, burned but delicate-looking furniture decorated the interior. There were even destroyed paintings of, most likely, the royalty that had lived here. The darkness and hardship this place endured was enchanting.

“ _ Sh _ ,” Zylen commanded, putting up a hand. It took about two seconds for everyone to be dead quiet. Then, a suspicious scraping noise was heard. As if a mouse was scurrying alongside the walls. But nothing moved the entire time they were here, so wha-

_ Whisper, whisper _ .

“ _ ‘Tis them…” _

_ Whoosh. _ Everyone turned. No one was there.

_ “How foolish…” _

_ Whisper, whisper. _

_ “They think they can stop Lord Carbrey…” _

“Show yourselves at once!” demanded Zylen.

_ Zip! _

At Zylen’s command, the troops spread out cautiously.

A cackle.  _ “Their thoughts deceive them…” _

_ “It shall be their destruction!” _

The palace rumbled. Walls cracked, portraits fell, the floor threw everyone off balance. Everyone except Tristin and Ashley.

Shadows that were  _ definitely _ never there before moved, revealing glinting armour. Gladiators, knights, berserkers, and all alike were purely black under their armour. It was a mismatch of hand-to-hand combat fighters, a group of various killers.

_ “Now.” _

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

What went through Tristin’s head? He’ll never admit that his need to get rid of adrenaline was one of the two things that stopped him from freezing in fear. The second was his sister standing tall.

That is, until Ashley was hauled into the darkness.

Tristin didn’t understand! They were back to back, slowly making their way to the throne room with the others. One second later, the siblings were meters away from one another.

“ _ Ashley! _ ” As horrible as it felt, he sliced off an enemy’s armour and shoved his blade into its stomach. Tristin refrained from gagging and tried to catch up with his sister.

“Nay, lad!” He was pulled back by a strong hand. If it wasn’t for the voice, Tristin would’ve instantly swung his blade around. “We shall ensure thy sister’s safety. I promise thee-” he paused to slay a humanoid, as Tristin refused to call it a human. “Ye shall both return home safely. On my life, it  _ shall  _ happen. The throne room is the one with grand-”  _ Slash. _ “doors! Off with thee!”

Tristin dodged his way through the attackers, refusing to use his sword. About a month earlier and he’d have thought this experience would be the best of all. Well, it’s the most exhilarating, but the most terrifying. He had killed at the age of thirteen. It’s self-defense, yes, but that’s something he’ll never be able to erase from his mind.

He was at the doors that led to his escape. He oh-so-badly wanted to wait for his sister, but he only had enough time to observe these people not only losing their lives for their families and their future, but also for  _ them _ . Tristin and Ashley. 

Guilty, at the top of his lungs he screamed, “ _ Gramercy! All of ye! _ ” He wished he could have thanked them before any blood was spilled, but that was the best he could do before any enemies noticed. Shoving the doors open, he prayed for the greater good. 

 

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

He _can_ do this. This wasn’t just about his life anymore. He understands now.

It was strangely quiet. A lone throne sat near the back of the room, dusty and unused but still glimmering. Wind made the curtains dance, but the boy felt no draft run past. This felt so much like his very first guitar recital, back when he was eight. But this time, he felt a chill crawl through his bones. He only felt his conscience leading him forward.

“Hey! Old man! Come out here!”

_ Really, Tristin?  _ That was the first time he’s ever scolded himself.  _ This isn’t the ti- _

“Foolish, foolish child,” rumbled a voice. Its power was indescribably hypnotic.

_ I…  _ am _ foolish… aren’t I? _

_ No! _ he took control of his thoughts.  _ I’m Sir Tristin the Mighty, for  _ real  _ now! _

As a figure stalked from behind the somehow still golden throne, he readied himself and unsheathed the blade.

The man wore a hooded black robe. Tristin couldn’t see his face. Every spark of light diminished once he passed it. It was as if only shadows were able to follow him.

Tristin glared. “Carbrey.”

His foe froze, probably shocked he knows his name. He regained his demeaning aura and said in a decibel so low Tristin could barely hear, “That’s Lord Carbrey to you, Tristin the  _ Weak _ .”

A line of some sort of dark liquid shot out at Tristin. His reflexes only allowed him to whiz his blade at it, but amazingly, it worked. It splashed on the ground and stained the rug as if it were juice spilled from a glass.

The young boy was just about to throw an insult when ‘Lord Carbrey’ tsked. “Congratulate whoever taught you when my master puts all of your souls in their cages.”

_ Why doesn’t he talk like the others? _

“Can you handle this?”

_ Vroosh, whim, zrip! _ Threads of the same substance reached for the boy. They barely missed him.

“Hm, are these not enough of a challenge?” Carbrey tilted his head. “My bad. I’ll try harder.”

Out of the blue - more like “out of the black” - a net-like object hit Tristin’s torso and caused him to lose his footing. To prevent him impaling himself, he was forced to throw his blade aside.

“Ah, well. That was fun.” His opponent took his time strolling to the helpless boy. “Now, how much pain can a boy like you tolerate?” He reached down to grab Tristin’s neck. Fortunately, an arrow protruding from Carbrey’s hand didn’t allow it. He screamed, possibly from both pain and surprise. The net disintegrated.

“Tell your master you failed him once we’re finished with you.” Ashley ran up and smacked the man upside in the head with the hilt of Tristin’s sword.

Her little brother jumped up and exclaimed, “My hero!” only half-joking. She helped him up and handed him his longsword just as Carbrey recovered. The arrow was on the ground as his hand bled weakly.

“Unexpected…” He clapped his hands. “But still defeatable.” He extended his hand and creatures literally crawled out from the shrouds of black. The groaned as they slowly but surely came closer. Every time they clawed forward, their fingers dug into the ground and left deep marks.

_ Zombies…? _

“Remember how you screamed and ran when you saw me watching ‘The Walking Dead’?” recalled Tristin.

“Uh… Yes?” Ashley whispered back.

“Don’t do that here, please. Don’t leave me.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, Ashley hugged him. Not a full-on hug, she was smarter than doing that in the middle of lethal shadows. It felt a lot more comfortable and safe than it would have without this experience.

“Never again.” She pulled away and cocked an arrow. Tristin watched in awe as she shot with prestige and near-perfect accuracy. He helped by running up and decapitating them all. It was literally like cutting air. A minute later and none remained.

“Enough playing around.” Carbey held up his bandaged hand. He made signals with his right hand’s fingers as his left palm faced towards them. The magician chanted under his breath as dark, smoky orbs swirled around him. The wind picked up and the siblings stayed close together.

“ _ Eradico! _ ” Pulsing spheres zoomed toward the two. The first one struck the floor and exploded into shimmering black dust. Tristin felt a wave of fear wash over him. It took a minute, but he managed to fight it. He checked on Ashley, and she was already shooting at more orbs. Some even eliminated others.

Tristin wasn’t as lucky. He uses a longsword which gave him bit of distance from his attacker, but not enough for at least one speck touch him each time, no matter how fast he moved. Loneliness, doubt, anxiety, terror, sadness and even more negative emotions filled him. It was becoming harder and harder to push away the discouragement.

_ Just… swing your sword at anything that isn’t her…  _

Stone-hard matter grabbed his leg and twisted it with extreme strength. He heard someone - maybe him? - scream out in agony as he fell on all fours. The boy stared at the ground.

_ This is all just a bad dream…  _ He ignored any pain he might have felt earlier and got back up.  _ Left, right, aim, slash. _ He repeated this in his head to keep himself focused.

“Don’t give up, Tristin!” a voice called from afar.

“You cannot do it!” A different voice.

“Oh, will you just-  _ Ugh! _ ” the first voice argued.

He saw a hooded body before him and instinctively struck its arm with his blade.

“Rargh!  _ Hoc est  _ _ tua postremus hora!”  _ A blast of thick, gooey matter sent him sprawling across the room. Spots danced around his vision. He felt something tugging at him, urging to close his eyes.

“Tristin!”

_ It’ll just b-be a short n-n-nap…  _

“Not so fast, girl!”

_ No…  _ He tried getting up and failed horribly.

“Argh!”

_ No sleep until this is over.  _ The boy forced himself standing, using his blade to prop him up. It was miserable here. He was done with this. Tristin inspected himself before doing anything rash.

Where there was no armour, he was either bruised, bleeding or both. As he crumpled down after his first step, he felt a rib crack and cried out. No use holding it in.

“ _ Congeria! _ ”

That voice was annoying. Tristin didn’t like it. All of the discouraging orbs and shadowy monsters were already too much. So, he set his mind to ending it all.

“Stop!” a female voice cried. “Your master won’t actually reward you with anything you’ll like!”

“Liar!”

There it was again. He couldn’t ignore his suffering, so he decided to use it. With one final stomp, he fell to the ground, overreacting his pain. As quickly as he could, he laid on his blade, crossing his fingers that there was still armour where it touched.

“No!” Ashley.

“Looks like your brother would like to end his suffering!” Carbey cackled again. A shadow passed over Tristin and he thought another one of those shadow threads were engulfing him. Nope, it was only a mad Scottish man.

“So many ways to end a life… Not many chances to do so…” He bent down, cradling his left arm. “Tell me, sonny, what does it feel like to finish as a killer?”

“I think I should be asking you that.” Tristin flipped himself over and grabbed the man’s injured arm, using it to help himself up. The boy’s hand was stained with his blood, but not like he wasn’t bleeding everywhere else.

“You little-”

Tristin put the tip of his Swiss longsword up to Carbey’s throat. “You.” He glared into the old man’s insane eyes, acting as if he wasn't injured. “You threw it all away, just to follow an untrustable god. You know that, don’t you?”

The wizard gulped. His expression was enough to tell Tristin that the man was horrified to move.

“Your silence alone shows you agree.” Everything and everyone but Tristin was dead quiet. Not even the fighting he assumed was still going on was able to be heard. “Why? Why would you do that?”

No answer. His body ached, but there was no room for mistakes. Not here.

“I asked you a  _ question _ , sir.”

“I-I…” If there wasn’t a blade ready at his neck, Tristin bet he would’ve bowed down. “I don’t…” Carbey shut his eyes for a second, and when he opened it, it was full of rage and hysteria. “You cannot stop me, boy! The Dark Lord is wi-  _ ark! _ ”

“ _ No _ . Carbey. You of all people  _ know _ it’s a ruse. Your so-called ‘master’ is only using you because he wants to take everything over. It’s only going to throw you away later.”

The man shook, but with rage or with the fragility of his mind, Tristin didn’t know. “N-n-n-no… Y-y-you…  _ You’re all wrong! _ ”

“Look. You’re only hum-”

“Stop! You cannot defeat me!” Carbey stood, causing a thin line of blood to appear on his throat. “You won’t have my soul!” The man wildly gestured, pointing at Tristin before swiping his hands through the space in front of him.

The confused boy tried calming him down. “I won’t take your life away. I ju-”

“My soul belongs to the Dark Lord!”

“They’re in here!” 

_ Zylen? _

“Don’t be too sudden!” He heard Ashley shush them.

“Y-you’ll see, boy!”

“Car.  _ Bey _ . Please. Let’s just have a mature conversati-”

The man let out a mad laugh. “I-I’m not staying here! Th-th-this world… I’m too great for the material world!” He slowly backed up. Despite what he put Tristin through, he cautiously followed him to make sure he’s safe.

“What in the name of-!” A high-pitched female voice exclaimed. It was followed by hushing.

“None of us will hurt you, sir…” Tristin placed his sword on the ground and put his hands up.

“N-no!”

Tristin made a ‘come up here’ gesture with his hands, hoping the people behind him will understand.

“They’ll help you, sir. Just cooperate with them, okay?”

Carbey wasn’t even speaking in English anymore. He ran his hands through his balding head, tugging at the mess he made it into.

Soft footsteps were heard from behind Tristin. The next second, Lord Carbey was on a large, muscular man’s shoulder.

“Be careful!”

_ “Dimitte me, stulti!” _ The man thrashed around but couldn’t break free. Once they were gone, the remainder of the army gave Tristin and Ashley their thanks, congratulations and goodbyes as they head off, waiting at the entrance of the ruins. Soon, it was just a heavily bandaged Tristin (with several cool healing spells casted on him, of course), Ashley, Zylen and Mila.

Zylen marched up to Tristin. “Lad, I don’t think I’ve witnessed anything greater than that.”

“Th-thanks…” The boy smiled.

Ashley rubbed her hands together, anxious. She fixed her hold on her brother. “How’re we gonna live with this experience back home?”

The twins looked disappointed. “Ah, right…” Mila murmured.

“Hey, we could always return in a few years, right?” Ashley gave them a bright smile.

This seemed to have brightened their perspective.

“Of course! I shall… Hm… ‘take your word for it’.” Zylen was obviously uncomfortable saying that.

Being the great person Ashley is, she voiced his efforts and high-fived him. That made him even more awkward, Tristin noticed. He smiled, even through what just happened.

“And what might you be snickerin’ at, lad?” Mila joked. She put her hands on her hips mockingly and scrunched up her nose.

“Your face!” he hit back.

“Aye!” Zylen burst out laughing and Ashley giggled.

“Well, I never!” Mila stuck her chin up mockingly.

Tristin was glad to have such a light-hearted, carcass-less conversation during the entire walk to the Gate.

**⚔ ⚔ ⚔**

 

They all gave one big, long group hug. He could tell that the three others were being careful around his already healed or healing injuries.

“Give Aldwin the best, biggest hug you can for us when you two get back, alright?”

“Aye, m’lady!”

“Now leave before I stop ye!”

“Visit as much as possible!”

“Take care of that old man for me!”

“Which one?”

“Both!”

“Ha! Aye!”

Ashley and Tristin stepped up to the Gate. It was literally just a hole in the wall. It looked like a void. Empty. No heat, no cold… Just black. It was about forty feet high and arched over before coming back down. It was as if the entire world just stopped after the stone.

Grabbing his hand, Ashley asked Tristin, “Are you ready?”

_ Ah, the memories of that question… _

“Wait.” He let go of her hand, running up to Zylen. “D’you have my ball?” Tristin asked politely. Zylen nodded and took it out of his bag. He quickly thanked the two again, taking his sister’s hand. “Totally.”

They stepped into the Gate, back into their world. The final thing they heard was, “We love ye!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls correct my latin
> 
> TW SUICIDE MENTION RITE HERE
> 
>  
> 
> carbrey was actually supposed to kill himself but i deemed that too inappropriate for school. maybe next time?
> 
>  
> 
> TW END.
> 
> I hope a few of you took a liking to this short! If you did, kudos and comments are appreciated! If not, well, sorry to hear. There's a story out there for you, no doubt!
> 
> Keep on reading, my dudes.


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